


Light of the Party, Beacon in the Night

by Melethril



Category: Lucifer (TV), The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Jesus and Lucifer - Freeform, M/M, Timeline What Timeline, You know these two would get along, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:55:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28032738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melethril/pseuds/Melethril
Summary: Paul Rovia is used to being called Jesus. Years ago, in what now seems like another life, he met the devil. Years later, he realizes that it is not a nickname.
Relationships: Paul "Jesus" Rovia/Lucifer Morningstar
Comments: 16
Kudos: 73





	Light of the Party, Beacon in the Night

**Author's Note:**

> Been rewatching early seasons of TWD and reading fan fiction. This came to mind. 
> 
> I am truly sorry. I don't drink alcohol, but I am pretty sure my muse was drunk when she thought of this plot bunny.
> 
> A few notes to the story: This is VERY AU.
> 
> \- I use Paul Rovia like in the show not Monroe like in the comics. I am not familiar with either to be honest, most I know about him are a few episodes and fan fiction…  
> \- TWD setting: both Before and then set some unspecific time after Rick and Daryl met Jesus. Nothing concrete and not canon-compliant  
> \- Lucifer: Kind of the character from the TV show, but he never retired and is simply on one of his Earth vacations; Mum was never incarcerated by Dad. Also, powerful!Lucifer Morningstar, because he should be. Not necessarily compliant with my other stories. This is independent, but ‘my’ readers will recognize ‘my’ Lucifer. I hope.

Lucifer sat in a bar in Washington DC. Vacation was almost over. He had taken only 50 days this time around, and he would use every last second until midnight, and what better way to end his vacation than with some wonderful sex? He needed the warmth, the Light, because soon, he would spend five Earth years away from any of it. It already felt like an eternity and he had not even left yet.

The approaching man’s steps were quiet and confident, causing Lucifer to smile into his drink; it always felt nice being sought out.

“My name is Paul Rovia, but my friends have taken to calling me Jesus.”

Lucifer turned his head, amused. The man truly had a resemblance to the Western, and inaccurate, portrayal of his adoptive brother. His eyes were bright-blue with a greenish tinge, his expression open, warm, mischievous and kind.

Jackpot.

“Lucifer. Morningstar,” he added as an afterthought. “And not at all into adoptive baby brothers,” said he playfully.

Without missing a beat, Paul sat down in the seat next to him.

“Just Paul, then.” It was an unspoken offer and Lucifer was more than happy to oblige. He gestured at Thomas, the barkeeper, who lit up when he saw Jesus, greeted him warmly, and prepared him what was obviously the man’s preferred choice of drink. Thomas also happily refilled Lucifer’s glass before turning to other customers; he was good like that, always sensing when patrons wished to be in a more private setting. Lucifer had played the piano here, occasionally. He liked the atmosphere of the place; it was full of light and promise. He would definitely check it out five years from now.

“Lucky for you, the real thing was from Nazareth and, unlike you, he probably would have trouble passing airport security these days.”

Paul laughed. The man was short, lean, but the way he carried himself made clear that he knew who he was and could take care of himself. Lucifer felt a thrill of excitement coursing through him at the sound of the young man’s melodic voice.

“True enough. So, Lucifer, new here?”

“Old as dirt, I’m afraid,” said Lucifer.

Older than dirt, to be precise.

“I haven’t seen you here in the last fifty days,” he continued. “I’ve been here quite often.”

“I was out of town.” The man’s expression shifted and Lucifer understood the need to ‘get out’ all too well. He wondered what kind of heartbreak had made him leave, however.

“Pity. I have only until midnight.”

“Just my luck,” said the man, “and then what? The carriage turns back into a pumpkin?”

“No,” chuckled Lucifer. “My brother will pick me up because I need to get back to work.”

“Another day then?” said Paul softly, his whole countenance so full of Light that Lucifer wanted to reach out. “I thought you looked like you wanted some company. But if you’re busy, we can always just talk until you have to get to work, and do something else another day.”

“What is it that you desire?” asked Lucifer curiously. He genuinely could not tell from looking at him; beacons of Light like the man in front of him were always hard to read.

Paul wetted his lips with his tongue before saying roughly, “Whatever you want.”

That made the devil laugh, “Likewise.”

“I…” Paul took a shuddering breath, “Damn, you’re hot, and-I want to brighten your night, however you wish.”

Lucifer gently reached out an pushed some of the silky hair to the side, “We have six hours, Mr. Rovia. We could have sex, we could talk, we could do whatever you wish, but whatever we do, I will be gone at midnight.”

“Gone as in ‘gone for good’?”

“Five years.”

“Damn.”

“Unfortunately.”

“It’s a shame the special exhibition at the Smithsonian closed tonight; I heard it was stunning, some never-seen before art pieces from a private owner, spanning centuries,” elaborated Paul, sounding disappointed. “Would have been a great last day for you.”

“Oh, if that is all,” said Lucifer, amused. “Ever been to the Smithsonian when all the visitors have left? The curator owes me a favor.”

He decided not to say that the special exhibition was his.

Paul’s eyes brightened even further.

“No, I haven’t and yes, I’d love to.”

* * *

Three hours of enjoying a private tour through the prestigious museum was followed by very passionate, skilled and sweet sex that set Lucifer’s senses on fire and he enjoyed every moment of it. Paul Rovia was a special human, unifying strength and kindness in equal measure; he was mysterious and Lucifer lamented the fact they had only met tonight. He had built his fair share of ‘lasting’ friendships – or as lasting as they could be when it came to mortals – with a number of humans over the centuries, and he would not mind Paul being one of them.

“Any way for me to reach you?” Paul asked, his arms around Lucifer, breathing heavily from their last bout. “When you’re off?”

“I’m afraid not. For you anyway, and I can’t recommend it either,” said the devil.

“Just wanted to say that this was-wow, I’ve never, I’m speechless,” said the man tiredly and Lucifer smiled.

“That must be a first.”

The man loved to talk after all, even during sex… at least in the beginning. The jab earned him a playful punch in the arm.

It was almost midnight and Lucifer needed to voice a concern that had been plaguing him for the past fifty days, “Be careful, Paul. I’ve been smelling a sickness.” He had not had this feeling since that foreboding visit to Earth in 1345.

Only this was worse, much worse. He could almost feel death reaching out to the humans around him and it set him on edge.

“Avoid the dead and those who pretend to be.”

Unlike his father, he was _not_ omniscient.

He was still more perceptive than humanity could ever hope to be.

* * *

_“Avoid the dead and those who pretend to be.”_

This was easier said than done, thought Paul, as the dead were closing in on them.

They had all handled a sheer insurmountable number of walkers since this whole mess started; Rick’s family were some of the greatest survivors Paul had ever met. However, this was hopeless; there were only eight of them and thousands of walkers, no chance of escape and all they could do was form a circle in the hope they could fight off at least some of them. Go out with a bang, so to speak.

Daryl was to his left, Sasha to his right.

“Was nice knowin’ y’all,” said Daryl. “Let’s give ‘em Hell.”

Weirdly enough, that made him think of Lucifer yet again. He had barely known the man, so it was strange that he would be the one to join him in his last thoughts. There had been something about him that utterly intrigued him (and not the fact he was a god in the sheets, though that was a factor, too; it had been the best night of his life after all). Paul thought he could have spent a lifetime with the stranger and still would not have scratched the surface of what was hiding in these dark pools that were his eyes.

“Yeah,” said Rick, tensing up and ready. “It was an honor.”

Knives in hand, they proudly stood side by side awaiting their end, but just when the walkers were on them, a deep voice growled, “ _Go back to the Shadow.”_

As if someone had cut invisible strings, the dead fell to the ground. Every walker nearby just… died. The only one standing was a very familiar figure in front of him.

He had not seen him in three years, but there was no way in hell he could ever forget the tall, dark-haired man he had met all these years ago. There was a difference, however, one that caused the blood in Paul’s veins to freeze: Lucifer’s eyes were red, and for a brief moment, there was a flicker and Lucifer’s entire body switched between the body he knew intimately and something that was more dangerous than any walker or threat he had faced in the past.

Next to Lucifer stood five large, thin dogs with short, charcoal-black fur and equally red eyes, growling lowly in a way that vibrated in Paul’s chest.

“What the-?” cursed Michonne, speechless.

As if nothing of importance happened, Lucifer stepped over the bodies on the ground toward the group, away from the dogs, his eyes a familiar dark-brown. “I always wanted to say that,” said he cheerfully. “And shadows they were; what invaded the dead. Anyway, I-Paul?” Taken aback, his dark eyes were on him, and Paul had no idea what to say.

“Are you alright?” asked the _devil_.

“Lucifer isn’t a nickname, then,” he breathed.

“Did I mention anything about a nickname?” he retorted, “I thought that was you regarding your moniker. And since you are not my baby brother, that was correct. For me, it would have been a lie, and I do not do that.”

Paul had no idea what to say, his heart hammering in his chest.

“Who’re you?” asked Rick, but his tone implied he had already put two and two together. He sounded unusually timid and afraid.

“Lucifer Morningstar,” said Paul’s lover from another life. “The devil, at your service.”

Paul heard a knife fall from nerveless fingers, and it took a moment for him to realize it was his own.

“Was this your doing?” asked Michonne, echoing the question that had invaded Paul’s head since hearing the devil’s voice.

Lucifer scoffed, his eyes flashing with irritation. “Sure, blame me, that’s all you’ve ever done.”

“She asked a question,” growled Abraham, his grip on the knife firm and cold.

“It wasn’t me,” scoffed Lucifer. “This isn’t Judgment Day… or Judgment Year given how much traffic Hell has seen these past centuries.” Confused, Paul shook his head to clear his thoughts. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have work to-yes, dear?” He looked at the dog closest to him. “Go look for your pup. I’m sure she’s-You,” he looked straight at Daryl, “you seen a hellhound pup a few years back? Kerb says you still smell of her, and I know better than to question a hellhound’s sense of smell. She would have been smaller, but she’s just like her mother.” With that, he gently touched the giant dog’s – hellhound’s – head.

“Fuck me, the Chupacabra,” hissed Daryl, looking young and scared.

“Oh, I’d love to do that,” said Lucifer cheerfully causing Daryl’s eyes to widen and Paul’s lip to contort into something that resembled an amused smirk. “Yes, probably.”

“Was huntin’ squirrel back in Georgia ‘fore the world ended, and there I saw it. Didn’t do nothin’, just stared. Gave it the meat I had.”

“Very kind of you,” said the devil.

“Hell, no! Was terrified it’d eat me otherwise.”

“I see your point.”

“Stop, for the love of-stop!” Paul pleaded, and Lucifer’s eyes instantly drew to him. “What happened?”

“What happened. Good question. Remember that night when I warned you about smelling a sickness? I felt that humans would die by the droves, but you have before, and I’m not really allowed on Earth except for a few days of vacation, so I didn’t bother investigating it further. After I left, the sickness came down upon humanity through the machinations of a jealous Goddess that detested Dad’s little pet project for which he neglected his family. The only angels that ever come to Earth are Azrael, Raphael and myself, and Amenadiel to make sure I leave, but Azrael was so busy, and Raphael was not on Earth, as planned by my mother… Long story short: Dad made you, neglected us, left to only He knows where, leaving us to handle his affairs on Earth, which brought its own catastrophes, then my siblings became tired of playing your babysitters, thus centuries of you people guessing what might come next, leaving Raphael to heal, Azrael to pick up where he left off, myself to punish the sinners and Michael to make sure the rest found their peace in Heaven. Meanwhile, Mum created this sickness to kill you all and because nobody paid attention until Raphael returned, the human population has now dwindled so much that you are dangerously close to extinction. Does this answer it?”

Paul just stared. This was too much. He had spent what felt like a lifetime fighting to live another day only to hear that this happened because God’s wife was jealous, and God himself could not be bothered.

Still, that left another question, “So, what are you doing here?”

“Mum made the Shadow Sickness and I’m the Lightbringer. No shadow stands a chance. The dead will walk no more,” said Lucifer softly. “I wish I had come sooner, but I didn’t know. I thought it was a regular pandemic, like the bubonic plague when it killed humans in the millions. Plagues lead to tension, which leads to war, which leads to people committing damnable crimes. I-if Raphael had not returned, I wouldn’t have seen it.”

“They’re gone?” repeated Rick numbly. “All of them? The walkers.”

“Yep.”

“What happens now?”

“How should I know?” asked Lucifer dismissively. “Dad gave you free will. What comes now is your choice. It always is. I’m not going to interfere with that. Anyway, the Chupacabra. Where was that? Exactly.”

Numbly, Daryl explained the exact spot.

“Thank you.” He looked at the dogs. “Go on, find your little one.”

With that, the hounds pounced and ran away with the exception of the one next to Lucifer; it quickly approached Daryl whined and licked the archer’s hand before following the rest.

“She likes you,” smiled Lucifer. It fell from his lips quickly, which caused Paul’s thundering heart to tighten on top of the swirl of emotion he was feeling.

“So, I’m going back to work. In a millennium or so, this should be a distant memory. Oh, and don’t worry about my mother. She’s broken a lot of Celestial Laws; she’s now forever trapped in Hell. Won’t bother you again.” He looked absolutely miserable. “So long.”

“Wait!” exclaimed Paul, desperate, unwilling to let him go. He still had questions, so many questions. “Why don’t you-This must have exhausted you. You should stay. You saved our lives. We owe you at least a meal, and a place to stay the night.”

He was insane. He had to be, but damn it, he had stood up against the living dead! The existence of angels and gods would not break him. Not now.

Besides, Lucifer had not caused this, had ended it, in fact, saving their lives in turn. The least he deserved was a meal.

Lucifer’s expression was soft and so very surprised that Paul felt ashamed that he had even considered letting him go without a ‘thank you’.

Rick nodded firmly, “Least we can do, Mr. Morningstar.”

“Whatever you desire.”

* * *

“Wait a minute,” Abraham exclaimed suddenly when they were all eating their meal. “Jesus, you fucked the devil?”

“Oh yes. He was very good at it, too. And I wouldn’t say ‘no’ to another round.”

Paul felt the disorienting sensation of his blood simultaneously shooting into his cheeks and very much below the belt.

“That’s blasphemy.”

“Darling, I’m the devil. That’s part of the job description.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this wasn't too weird. Again, sorry.


End file.
